Page 43

Ignatia

“I want my hair down like yours,” Sabina whines as I brush her blonde hair up into a neat bun. “It looks prettier.”

I'm getting Sabina ready for the birthday party, in a dimly lit room in front of a cream framed vanity mirror. Sabina has on a pink dress with roses patterned on it and a silver necklace. I figured she'd look nice with a bun.

I look into the mirror with her. “My hair is an absolute mess.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I think you look pretty,” she says excitedly, bouncing her legs on the swivel chair.

The unexpected compliment earns a smile. Nobody has said that before, and considering how honest Sabina can be, it's especially sweet to hear. “Thank you.”

“So can I have my hair down?” she asks once again, turning up to look at me with a pout.

I raise a brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I want to look more like you!”

I think for a moment, her hair still in one hand and a hair band in the other. I guess if that's what Sabina wants. There's no reason why she shouldn't have it. Just as long as it gets another good brush.

I let go of her hair and let it fall down past her shoulders. Sabina beams at the mirror as I get the brush again to neaten it. She's jumping in her seat as I laugh at her enthusiasm.

I’m not used to this admiration.

“I just have to brush it a little bit more.”

“Mmhm!” she giggles as I continue to brush her hair.

It falls silent between us as I focus on her hair, being careful not to pull too hard on any knots. Soon enough, she’ll be ready for the party.

“What are you wearing to the party?” Sabina asks.

“Oh… um…” A frown tugs my lips. “I'm not coming.”

She pouts again. “Why not?”

“I can't…” I exhale heavily. “I have things to do tonight.” Like actually moving forward with plans going to Caelestia and ignoring the fact that I don't want to leave Sabina and Amias.

Mostly, I'm hiding from Amara.

She scrunches her brow. “You can't miss the party!”

“Unfortunately, that's how it is.” I shrug.

She gets quiet, but the mirror shows her moping. “I wish you were going.”

I suck air through my teeth. I don't like to disappoint her. “Apologies…”

After another minute or two, I finish brushing her hair and she hops out from the chair like she forgot I wasn't going. Her eyes gleam again. “I'm going to show everyone!”

“You look amazing! Go ahead!”

She giggles as she sprints out of the room. I quickly follow behind, excited to see her show off my work.

But when we get to the dimly lit hallway where the other kids are waiting, there's no giggling and smiling. Instead, the kids and the other counselors are either crying or hunched over in silence, all wearing pinks and light blues.

I furrow my brows. What's happening?

I look at Sabina whose head is bowed. She whimpers softly as she makes her way to join the others. Her floral dress is now a dusty light blue, with her hair in a half up and half down hairstyle.

I look down at my outfit. I was wearing a regular black tee and mahogany jeans earlier. Now, I’m in a dusty blue blouse with matching pants.

I draw in a sharp breath. It's okay. It's not real. It's just a prophecy. Play it cool.

I bite my tongue as I observe everyone. Light blue and pink. That's all they're wearing. Many of the counselors are holding amare flowers in a bouquet.

Pink. Blue. Amare flowers.

Sabina runs her eyes as her small body trembles.

A familiar figure approaches her. “It will be okay,” Glaide croons, wearing a salmon blazer with amare flower imprints on it. He bends down to Sabina's level, his eyes watering. “ It will all be okay.”

He pulls her into an embrace, and her whimpers turn to sobs. My heart swells at the sight like it had been bruised. What's gotten into everyone?

One of the counselors gets their phone out, and slouches. “The ceremony will start in an hour.”

A ceremony?

Glaide picks up Sabina as everyone makes their way down the hall. I hesitantly follow, still pieces things together, when Glaide turns back to me. “Clara, don't forget the bread.”

I jerk back. Bread? For what ceremony would I need bread?

I whirl my head around to a cabinet that has a basket of sourdough slices. I stare at it. It looks much like the bread Amias makes.

Bread… Pink and blue… ceremony… Amara flowers…

I approach the basket and notice a little pink note next to the slices. I narrow my eyes on it.

For the funeral. Do not Eat.

A gasp escapes me. A funeral? For whom?

Bread… Pink and Blue… ceremony… Amare flowers…

My stomach drops. Bread, pink, blue and amare flowers. They all have one thing in common.

My vision blurs.

This funeral is for Amias.

I mean who else could it be? The only ceremony when devastated people color coordinate is when they honor the colors that represent the dead.Amare flowers are pink. His eyes are blue.

I think back to the vision of Amias burning. Were they connected? They must be. There's no way Godusa would warn me about his death two days in a row if it weren't a dire situation.

But when does it happen? When do I need to be there to protect him?

As if to answer me, I catch the mutter of one of the counselors. “It's pretty fucked up to think he died on his birthday.”

My eyes widen. Today. At the castle. Today.

Oh fuck! How could I get into the castle without being noticed by Amara or Amorette? Why did Godusa have to ask me? The one who's most likely to get killed?

Shit, does that mean Vasilisa will come? This is how Rayden died, isn't it? Fighting to ensure Lydia was safe, only to get backstabbed! What if that's what's waiting for me?

I attempt to catch my breath. Godusa is asking me because she knows I will protect him. If it really came down to Amias’ life, I'd do anything. He's the only friend I have now, and yet friend doesn't seem to fit the description enough.

I can't let him die. Not after all we’ve done for each other. Certainly not after I've saved his ass multiple times.

Not after he's accepted me here, and brought me so much joy in the time we've known each other.

It makes me wonder, why does she care if I save Amias?

I squeeze my eyes shut before opening them the cabinet full of pictures of the staff and kids at the orphanage. The basket had vanished.

Something tugs on my shirt, which is now my plain black tee again, and I look down to Sabina who's back in a pink dress. “Claree!”

I quickly grin at her to mask what had just happened. “Yes?”

“You're not paying attention!”

I nervously chuckle. “I apologize. What's happening?”

As she continues to talk, I can't help but drift off in focus. Amias could be dying tonight. How could I not?

I'm damn near guaranteed to be seen in a place where the Gift of Love is awaiting, ready to pop my head off.

Ice races up my spine. Is it worth dying over Amara’s grandson?

His family has hurt my people. They've killed them. I need to leave for Caelestia. I've already guided him to the truth. Maybe he can fix the kingdom on his own.

But I've already proven that he's worth so much to me. Just as he has done for me.

I have to risk it. I'm doing it for the right reasons. Perhaps that's why Rayden’s death was worth it. When you die for love, stupidity is more forgivable. It feels cowardly to run after all we've already risked.

I do hope Godusa has a plan for me to survive though.

Or perhaps she actually wants to kill me this time, and in that case, I'll accept it for Amias.